The Astralaceaes

Chapter 41: Calm Before the Storm

Haledon stared at the lifeless Mechanites scattered across the floor like a windswept pile of obsidian leaves. Around him, the Hypogeal Nexus was silent against the crackle of energy that eventually began to quiet in its own time.

"Is it...dead?" Haledon whispered as though his words could wake it.

"It is incapacitated, yes." Birchbark groaned as her form crawled from the remaining puddle of nutrient fluid.

"Wonderful job, Asteraceae Guild," Sparrow remarked. "I think we outdid ourselves—"

"Gaz, I need help over here!" Mek-Tek squeaked from beyond the flowered screen.

Haledon felt as Gazeas withdrew her hand from his SOIL and pushed up from him. She rushed out of sight in the direction Spark had flown and released an audible gasp as she parted the flowers.

"Spark." Haledon heard her say as he rushed to push himself up.

"Here you go," Witch-Hazel said as they emerged from the floor before Haledon. They took hold of his hand and lifted him to his feet. "Nice job back there. You held your own quite well."

"Thanks," He replied, looking over the arbornaut's freshly grown body. "You can't die from a Mecharrion's weapon, can you?"

"No, and they really hate it," Witch-Hazel smirked as they lumbered forward, stretching an arm over their chest. "The downside is that each new body is a bit rigid. The curse of bark bodies, I guess."

Looking back, Witch-Hazel parted the flowers as Haledon approached, beckoning him through first. As he stepped beyond, he saw Gazeas and Mek-Tek kneeling over a prone Spark.

"Is she..." Haledon gasped, afraid of the response.

"Alive, luckily," Gazeas said as she reached down and pulled Spark into a sitting position. "A hair deeper, and she would have been composting."

Spark's blood-soaked visage looked to the ground as she felt at her face. She traced her fingers over her eye along the length of two thick gashes that had been hastily scabbed over. She rubbed at a lower scab that reached from her opposite ear along her jaw. Looking up at the group, Spark began to laugh with uncontrollable giggles.

"That was so much fun!" Spark shouted out. Her joyful laughs filled the room as she examined her hands. "Where are my daggers?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Mek-Tek remarked, jumping up to her shoulder and nuzzling his head against hers. He gently patted her head with both paws, tucking away loose strands of hair. "I'll make you new ones."

Haledon watched as the flower screen separating the Asteraceae Guild from the rest of the Hypogeal Nexus split open. It revealed Sparrow and Birchbark as they walked into view, closing the ring of flowers in their wake.

"I am glad we are all still in one piece," Sparrow said to Gazeas and Spark. "Unfortunately, we're in the eye of the hurricane, and our current calm skies will be quickly ending."

"What do we do next?" Witch-Hazel asked as they slowly grabbed at their limbs, continuing to stretch them out.

"We need ideas." Sparrow clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the entire group. "We have tens-of-thousands of Druids depending on us. What is our plan."

"Okay, I was thinking," Mek-Tek started. "What if we took the Broadhead and rammed it into the Mecharrion Scout—"

"And how would we do that?" Gazeas cut in.

Haledon felt his mind wander as Mek-Tek continued to explain, diving deeper into the technical jargon. Finding a place to sit next to Spark, he continued to half-listen until fatigue gripped his body. He felt his eyes growing heavy, and no matter how hard he fought, the darkness eventually overtook him. But he wasn't asleep for long before the rooted shoulder of Spark nudged him back to consciousness.